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“Enough to know that washing dishes in a restaurant is cleaner than the life his father leads,” JP says. There’s the smallest hint of bitterness in his eyes, but it’s gone before I’m sure it was even there. “I came here and did whatever I could to give my son the choices I never had. Now he’s doing just that.” JP laughs quietly. “Although I do wish he’d become an engineer or a doctor, like I wanted. But kids these days, with all their fanciful ideas of chasing their dreams.” JP rolls his eyes, but his smile seems genuine, as though he’s glad his boy can have the luxury of a dream.
“Want me to go by the restaurant every once in a while? Make sure they’re treating him right? I didn’t get to eat anything but a couple of chips, so I wouldn’t mind checking out the food.”
JP shakes his head. “No, I went in for lunch to see my boy. I sat down with him, right there in the restaurant, and got the whole story. Though I have a question, one Manuel said you could answer.”
“What’s that?”
“The waitress, she called me El Hombre Conejo. Care to explain?”
I grin, laughing into my mug. I’m no expert in Spanish beyond knowing the curses that can lead to a bad situation, but I know enough to deduce that they’re calling JP The Rabbit Man, aka something worse than the Easter Bunny.
“Something I said to scare the idiots there. Don’t skin them alive.”
JP shrugs, not taking the joke. “Just tape their mouths shut first,” JP counters, “then it’s no problem.”
He sets his cup down and sighs, his face going stony. It’s time for business. JP reaches into his suit jacket and takes out a small envelope. “Mr. Big has a job assignment for you.”
“Now?” I ask incredulously. Normally, assignments are weeks, if not months, apart. This close together increases the chances of the police being aware of what’s going on. “I’m working on something else, but it’ll wrap up in a day or two.”
JP frowns and gives me a discerning look. “Is that something else about five foot three, redheaded, and quite pretty? She’s terrible at playing hide ‘n’ seek.”
The mention of Poppy on his tongue sends ice through my veins and is enough to change my mind. The threat is clear and doesn’t need to be spelled out. “What do you have for me?”
Wish I could say no, but I can’t help it. This is my job, and I need to do whatever I have to so that I can prove myself to JP and get a meet and greet with the big guy himself. I need that. I deserve that after everything I’ve done for the man.
Poppy said I’d know when and if I were done, and it’s not now. I know that for sure. Especially when the last thing I want is for JP to think Poppy has anything to do with my work. Or worse, might be holding me back from the work Mr. Big wants me to do. That’d put her in danger.
“There’s a piece coming into town.” Now that I’ve agreed, JP is relaxed again, sipping his drink.
“What’s the timeline?” I ask, and JP pushes the envelope toward me.
“Data,” JP says. “We want you to do some research to see if retrieval would be possible. We need to plan this down to the smallest detail. No chances for anything to go wrong. But if Mr. Big says go, the time window is extremely small.”
I nod in understanding, taking the envelope and slipping it into my back pocket. “Understood. I’ll be in touch.”
Business complete, I drain the rest of my coffee and offer JP a nod to say goodbye. I’m still on high alert as I leave the coffee shop, but everything seems fine as I get in my truck.
On the drive back to the house, my mind starts . . . musing. Perhaps this isn’t the traditional path people take, but as I look back, I have to admit to myself that I take pride in my work. I’ve worked hard to perfect my skills and get to where I am, and I’m so close to meeting Mr. Big. That’s been a goal for a while, and it’s right there, barely beyond my reach.
But with that comes the truth that what I do is risky. JP said he needs this planned down to the nitty gritty so nothing goes wrong, but nobody knows that more than I do. If something were to happen, I’d be the one who pays the price, with hard time or my life.
I’m about halfway home before a thought hits me.
Poppy would pay the price too.
I didn’t mean for this to happen, and maybe I should’ve stopped it before things went too far. But the truth is . . . it already has. It’s too late to go back now. Or is it?
